#Druidic rambling

[paracawsal]

Don't think l've posted this yet, and this is probably one of the few things I will post about Ovate grade...

But this is the opening page of my grimoire thing!

I'd like to thank stencils for getting me through lol-Though I did draw the text by hand, looking at an online reference 😊

The ogham is "Sith co nem, nem co doman, doman fo nim, nert hi cach" or "Peace to the heavens, heavens to the earth, earth under heavens, strength in each" - the first few lines of the Morrigan's peace prophecy.

[silverthornwitchery]

i really wish there was more info known of how Donn was historically venerated and worshipped and how he was depicted because literally majority of the Horned God stuff in my path, especially as Witches’ Devil/Witch Father keeps going back to him bc he (lovingly) will not leave me be.

[autistichalsin]

One of the most beautiful and understated parts of Halsin's arc is meaning.

In addition to showing kindness- like I mentioned in an earlier post- Halsin's love of nature symbolizes how he finds meaning in small things. It's why he loves honey; it's his little indulgence. It's why he loves ducks, whittling, and whittling ducks; because ducks are migratory birds, but they remind him of finding home.

In nature, Halsin sees life lessons. He sees meaning. He sees strength and protection and love in bears, he sees journeys and homecomings i ducks, he sees joy and simplicity in dogs. He sees strength and resilience and even beauty in trees, beginnings in roots, and wonder in the sky. It all has a meaning to him.

Even less happy things he acknowledges; he sees death as just as important as life, chaos as a necessary counter to order to keep balance (befitting his Druidic beliefs). He sees those who hate small talk as just as worthy of consideration as those who share his own love of rambling, and he sees monogamy as having just as much of a place in the world as polyamory even if the former will never be for him. Everything has a place, and he sees that.

He sees meaning in both the big and small things. He knows there is an underlying message behind so many actions and thoughts and beliefs, and those are important to him. He sees meaning in everything in the natural world, viewing it as a bounty from his deity.

And that actually reflects in his repeated choices to show kindness. It's his way of seeing the meaning of a child's laugh or a refugee's plight and knowing how to respond. It's part of why he's so flexible, because all of the different perspectives and attitudes matter to him.

I find it very telling that in the cut scenes where the characters would have been taunted in the Morphic Pool by hallucinations sent by the brain to dig in to their insecurities, Halsin's was saying that everything was meaningless. That the world should be allowed to burn while Halsin should give up. The taunt would have shown Halsin's struggles at that point in his life- his fight against cynicism (having given up cynicism around the age of 200), his frustrations with the ways cruelty is allowed to flourish (like his heartbreaking comments if Orin kills Yenna in the camp or his comments on the plight of the orphans in the city), his worries that perhaps his efforts are Archdruid were meaningless because he had few successes to show for his efforts. That image would have shown just who Halsin is- someone who wants so desperately, for better and worse, for everything to mean something.

And in overcoming it, Halsin would have shown one of his most beautiful traits- the ability to enact change in subtle ways, not obvious ones. Not in being a war hero or a folk legend, but in making his own meaning, for himself, and often for others too. When he sees children suffering, he makes a community where he can care for them. When he sees a Shadow Curse blight the land for 100 years while no one cares enough to fight it, he holds hope until he can break it himself. When others mock him for being a bear-man who loves honey, he indulges just as much, reasoning that as long as others are affected, he has a right to enjoy himself. When others sigh that he's talking about nature, again, and maybe he should talk about art instead, he turns it back to nature and saying that a tree is one of the most splendorous things in the world. When Halsin is, in his bad ending, left in the Shadow-Cursed Lands to try and break the curse on his own, he finds hope in his brief memories of traveling with the party, using those to sustain himself.

He makes his own meaning of the world. He refuses to believe that it's all without a purpose, even when he's miserable at the Grove or when he has no idea what his purpose is anymore once he breaks the Shadow Curse. He knows there's an answer- and if he can't find it readily, he will make it himself, and that's exactly why he ends up making a commune for those in need in the end, where he is adored by children and presumably adults alike.

Everything and everyone is important to him. He's a sentimental being at heart in a world that wants more than anything to toughen him up and stamp that out of him, and he refuses., and his devotion to kindness and meaningfulness are why he ends up so happy in his ending.

[risetherivermoon]

heres the dads in the little fantasy type au im working on! ive been working on this all day and honestly didnt expect to finish it lol, but here they are! im happy with how this came out :))

(some info cards abt them in this au + some more rambling beneath the cut)

i do like how these turned out, especially glenn and ron lol, i had a very clear view of big intimidating enchanted suit of armor and then rons little silly head poking out of the top of it lmao

and glenn is just went with cool ass tiefling bard...i like henry too but he looks pretty different from my usual design of him that it made it tough to not feel like im straying from his original character...though i think his story is pretty true to him,

i don't think i mentioned the fact that Hen also has the swirly mark but that one is from Bear and a...mysterious warlock he's working with now 😱 wonder who that could be lmao

darryl's story is a bit bland tbh so im thinking of adding more to him, as well as grant, i do think they have less of a backstory like the rest of them and their story takes place mostly when they meet the others,

henry & mercedes :(( tbh i have a plan for the moms as well...so mercedes is still wondering around, i mention she's a human but mercedes is also a witch!

druidic magic is severely uncommon in this universe, so most people are thrown off by hen & sparrow's displays of this magic, however it's more common in Oakvale, though Oakvale is very cut off from the rest of the world,

thats pretty much all i wanted to ramble about so...yay!

(heres the kiddads art as well)

[paeliae-occasionally]

Placeholder Ask - Naveena Qs Part 2

Hello, @thecomfywriter I told you I would circle back to these questions so here we are maybe a month later…

i read your post on the runes system briefly (gorgeous by the way. great distraction from pathology. i’m always doing pathology 😔) BUTTTTT can you pls ramble more about it? i wanna know what makes someone of magic. sponsorship from ike? is there drama between the gods? how has it affected history? how does it affect believers and their contrasting dynamics? how does it affect politics?

I always have more magic rambles!

How is magic acquired?

Ok so it depends what type of magic.

Ahinti (Arcane) magic - this is the type that the mages use. This is taught as it manipulates the naturally occurring Ike in the world.

Druidic magic - This can also be taught as it also draws from the magic naturally around you

Sorcerers - To be a sorcerer you have to be born magic as you cast from a personal store of magic that you have since birth.

Runics - You can learn the runes under certain conditions.

So essentially the runes are weird because they cast using the natural Ike but using the runes like a catalyst to break individual simple components out of strands.

The runes themselves are cursed by the god of magic Ezemhaziel so that the weirder has to have suffered as he and Rin suffered at the hands of mortals. This essentially means they have to go through extreme loss and pain to the point of emptiness to be able to channel through the runes.

But after the condition is met they can be taught and train like other magic users.

Is there drama between the gods? How has this effected history?

The answer is yes and the relevant posts are here and here.

How does it affect believers and their contrasting dynamics? How does it effect politics?

Now this is an interesting one.

So in this world there is not a distinction between believers and non-believers in the gods, as they were quite obviously real and present in the past.

But, there are different religions that hold things higher than the gods, and think if the gods differently because of it. (I am not explaining the whole church of the eternal lore here but feel free to ask)

There is however conflict over what they believe about the gods.

Before the dissolution, many cities had patron gods and rituals and festivals surrounding a variety of gods. Notably some were treated more like folk heroes than how you would expect a god to be treated as many people has higher beliefs than the gods they could see before them.

These alignments with certain gods still effect culture in the modern day, whether through a societies values, their art, or their industry. Their favour with a god also likely acted as a shield in the pre-dissolution massacres, especially if they were protected by one of the older, more powerful gods.

The various churches have dramatically impacted politics especially surrounding the support or animosity towards magical research. (This parallels the supposed ‘religion/science divide in our world) They also have impacted laws in the will of the eternal, or control the daily schedule of entire nations as giant ethno-religions.

I might need to make another post about the various religions in the world. Not all of them are as fully fleshed out as I would like but there are a couple strong ones.

Anyway tagging the tag list:

@thelovelymachinery, @an-indecisive-nerd, @the-letterbox-archives, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @winvyre

@happypup-kitcat24, @wyked-ao3, @leahnardo-da-veggie, @alnaperera, @dearunreliablenarrator

@rumeysawrites, @urnumber1star, @seastarblue, @thecomfywriter

[halsins-herbal-underpants]

Between Want and Need

also known as I Bet You'll Fit in My Pack

So another Halstarion fluff piece! I must be feeling the softness lately, haha. This one kind of rambled a bit -- I blame the fact I can't seem to write a thing with Astarion in it where the party banter doesn't devolve into like 89% 'give Astarion shit' times lmao -- I quite like the general vibe and the sweetness. No betas, hope everyone's IC lol! Pls do enjoy ~

Fluff / Astarion/Halsin / 6k words (give or take) // AO3 Link

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Astarion owed Halsin something and he wasn't happy about it at all.

He owed him, because that morning when he'd come back from an early hunt with Wyll, Shadowheart, and their defacto party leader Tav, Astarion had been covered in blood and walking slowly, painfully, a red-spattered gash at the waist -- and Halsin had hurried right to the vampire's side without a moment of hesitation. His hands were already starting to glimmer with druidic healing magic before Astarion even said a word.

And he hated it. Because now he owed him for that. After all, he hadn't needed Halsin to heal him, and yet there he was, kneeling at Astarion's feet and whispering magical words over his wound while his skin glimmered in oranges and greens.

Astarion let him. He decided it was easier to let Halsin continue rather than push him away.

But he didn't need this at all. Frankly, it was presumptuous, and he wondered why he didn’t let the druid know right then and there.

Well. Seemed silly to complain now, he supposed. But next time. Definitely next time.

Astarion wouldn't have even been wandering around the godsforsaken woods, if Tav hadn't insisted the spawn get his turn at the camp's fun new group activity.

The party was trying to load up on meat while they were past the Shadow cursed lands, but still far enough outside Baldur's Gate good game remained plentiful. Looting eighteen bottles of wine and twenty half-eaten apples for dinner was all well and good when hunting was scarce, but everyone -- well, everyone that didn't just need to cajole a bite of Halsin’s neck to have their supper -- was craving something substantial.

They had done a few days worth of hunting, everyone getting a turn to enjoy themselves with something besides killing cultists and goblins, but this was going to be the last of it. And boy, was Astarion glad for that.

Hunting for himself was fun. Hunting, real hunting, the kind that required more than just drinking an animal dry and discarding its carcass for the carrion birds, was so very indescribably boring.

His boredom might have been why he wasn't really paying as close attention to things as he should, frankly. Another reason to blame Tav for his troubles.

They'd run into a small raiding party, Tav had explained, as Astarion grimaced in pain under Halsin’s care. They sat besides him on one of the logs surrounding the camp's fire while Halsin knelt at Astarion's feet and concentrated on the slash in his side.

Kobolds, so the fight was over quickly. But a lucky little bugger he thought was dead had poked Astarion good when the vampire turned away to loot a body. The dagger was fit for kobold hands so the slash hadn't been deep. There had just been a nasty little poison on the blade, so it stung and burned and -- well, hurt quite a lot, actually.

But Astarion was fine, of course. He didn’t need this fussing at all.

"Blasted creature didn't have the courtesy to stay dead when stabbed," he sniffed. "So no fault of mine, if you ask me--ow!" He hissed softly in pain and Halsin winced.

"Apologies, Astarion. I think this may have been wyvern poison instead of the more standard fare," Halsin frowned, just as Shadowheart entered the camp, trailing behind while she helped Wyll carry back one of the bucks they'd managed to fell. Halsin's words made her pause and she frowned as well, as she dropped her half of the deer with the other game meat and walked towards the druid and his patient.

"Oh, wonderful," the vampire muttered dryly. "Surely poison isn't a cause for alarm for a walking corpse?

"You are more than that," Halsin scolded in that gentle way that made Astarion both roll his eyes and feel warm all over. "But yes, it should be fine. However it would be better if healing had been started at the moment the poison met flesh."

The druid's eyes flicked towards Shadowheart for the briefest moment before turning back to Astarion's wounds, but she absolutely caught the glance and her eyes narrowed. Halsin didn't notice. "It's had a bit to work its way in and this is a nasty sort that eats at the tissue; luckily its slow enough to often catch in time before lasting damage is done."

"That explains the burning," Astarion mused, more curious than worried as he peered down at the throbbing wound barely visible under Halsin's large hands, as the druid channeled Silvanus' blessing into his skin. "No real worries, I've had worse--"

"Oh Astarion...pardon me for interrupting, but can we speak?"

Astarion's words were abruptly halted by Shadowheart, her question blurted with a tone that sounded almost...offended? He looked up at the cleric and blinked to see her glaring at him, hands on her hips.

"I couldn’t help but overhear, you see. You were hurt by a poisoned blade?” Her lips turned downward, eyes narrowing more. “Why then, didn't you say anything?"

"Darling, it's like I said. I've had worse." He waved her off. "I can't run to you for every little bump and scrape, can I? It'd be a waste of my time and yours."

"That's what I'm here for, you stubborn twit," Shadowheart huffed and crossed her arms. "And having a dirty wound laced with wyvern poison is hardly a scrape. It's obvious you're in more pain than you let on, but you said nothing to me -- and I did check with you, if you recall." Her lips pressed tightly. "As I do everyone after a battle. But instead you said nothing until you waltzed back into camp." She paused and then continued roughly, a flicker of genuine upset escaping her careful expression. "And on top of it, you've made Halsin think I'm a poor cleric!"

"Oh, Shadowheart, I did not mean--" Halsin's exclaimed immediately, looking up at the half-elf with surprise and regret. He certainly hadn't intended his glance to convey that. It was involuntary, more curiosity as to why she seemed to have ignored an injury, than condemnation. It wasn't like her to leave a wounded comrade without aid if possible, after all. "You're incredibly skilled! I deeply apologize if I offended you."

"Huh! It's her accusation that's more offensive," Astarion frowned, feeling oddly defensive -- though, not for himself, but for the druid. "Our big bear would never be so rude. I wonder if he’s capable of a judgmental thought at all," he added drolly and Halsin had to chuckle.

"Oh, you'd be surprised..."

It was Shadowheart's turn to be chagrined and after a moment of faltering, she sighed and shook her head, her armored shoulders slumping.

"Oh, I'm sorry, myself. I know you wouldn't think something like that Halsin. At least nothing of real concern you’d keep to yourself.” Arms crossing, she rubbed at the back of her neck, lips pursed in an unnoticed pout.

“I suppose I'm just annoyed at our oh-so-brave rogue here, because this isn't the first time he's refrained from telling me about an injury until he returned to camp and had you fix it up." She paused and then tilted her chin up a little, trying to convey her next words coolly, and not tinged with the small amount of hurt she felt.

"If you think I'm incompetent Astarion, I wish you'd just say so. It would certainly save me some spell slots when you inevitably walk over a trap you yourself just located."

Astarion looked at her silently for a beat, glancing back at Halsin, but the druid was concentrating on his wound. Those wise hazel eyes did lift a little and meet his, Halsin's eyebrows raising. A sort of silent "Well...?" And then he smiled, gentle and caring, and went back to what he'd been doing. Encouragement to say what he knew was the right thing, but no pressure to do so.

The vampire groaned, his head dropping back as his brow pinched in irritation. "I....don't think you're incompetent, Shadowheart. You're a fantastic healer. I've never meant for my actions to feel like a personal slight, and...I'm..."

He paused, feeling something burning the side of his face and he glanced over to see Tav watching him with a very encouraging smile. Practically nodding along to every word, in fact.

For fuck's sake.

"Hhhhhh...I'm sorry," he muttered at Shadowheart's general direction, ignoring the low chuckle that came from the druid before him. He could just imagine the satisfied smile on that careworn face and he forced his own to pinch in annoyance.

"...Hm. Apology accepted," Shadowheart replied nonchalantly and then moved to sit on the log next to Astarion, watching Halsin do his work. She shifted as if attempting to get comfortable, the movement making her knee bump into Astarion's, briefly.

He recognized the gesture for what it was. They were both the same kind of stubborn, after all. He moved too, pretending to stretch, and bumped his elbow against her arm. He saw her little smile out of his periphery, and matched it with one of his own. They were all right.

"Still though," she did continue, her voice warmer with the slightest hint of reproach. "If you're hurt, you ought to tell me. Sometimes it's a simple scrape and sometimes it's wyvern poison, you know? I'm still terribly curious why you hesitate."

"Mm, no real reason. Perhaps I subconsciously fear Selune's wrath, she is so picky when it comes to who is worthy of her moonlight," he joked.

Of course, forgetting the camp currently held the daughter of said deity literally a tent away.

"What is that you say of my Mother Goddess?" Dame Aylin's voice rang out and Astarion nearly jumped.

"O-oh, nothing! Nothing at all--!" Astarion quickly blurted with a breezy, if slightly-frightened, smile. "Idle chatter, completely meaningless. I assure you."

He didn't see the smile that played over the assimar's lips as she affected a gruff look at the vampire. Halsin blinked and then laughed softly, lifting himself up to sit on Astarion's other side and place a large warm hand on his knee; a gesture of comfort and perhaps a small one of protection, as well. Of course the vampire had nothing to fear from Aylin, she was teasing. But still, it was comforting to have Halsin's huge body between her and himself.

"Let us not grow too heated," Halsin said cheerfully. "I do believe allowances are commonly made when one's true heart is seen. The Oak Father himself deems Astarion worthy of succor. I am quite sure Selune does as well."

"Hmmm…" Dame Aylin pretended to think for a few moments, watching Astarion fidget and then smiled brightly. "Aye, it is true. Our Lady of Silver knows a shadowed heart from a blackened one after all. Such hearts are alike to Her moonflower; though it may bloom only in darkness, its petals shall always seek the light."

Halsin couldn’t keep from smiling as he gently uncapped a bottled salve plucked from within his pouch, applying it gently to Astarion’s wound – a benefit not necessarily needed for Astarion’s natural healing, but one that would ease the pain more quickly. It wasn’t like his patient was complaining this time, either, so he took advantage of the rare agreeable mood.

“And a particularly lovely blossom to see in their unique bloom, if you’re able,” he agreed quietly.

Astarion blushed lightly, though he wasn’t quite sure why; he hid it with an expression dripping with annoyance, hand lifting to brush through his hair airly. “Have you quite finished, druid?” he muttered. “I’m not as delicate as some night flower.”

Isobel pursed her lips, looking thoughtfully at the spawn as he sat before Halsin, arguing the extra cautious treatment even as he happily remained for it. She slowly grinned then, leaning up to whisper something in her lover's ear as Astarion, his face gone as red as his formerly favorite wine at everyone’s eyes on him, exhaled a deep and long-suffering sigh.

"Can we please move the conversation past my heart, or my succor or me as the general topic, please?"

"But this topic is so much more interesting than talking about the deer we have to butcher," Tav interjected, plopping down on one of the other logs around the campfire, facing Astarion with a huge grin on their face. Astarion squinted at them, looking for all the world like a disgruntled feline.

Oh dear gods, are they all going to come over and sit around him now??

"Ah, apologies for bringing it up, Halsin," Tav added with a slight wince. The druid chuckled and shook his head.

"That is nature's cycle, my friend. It doesn't disturb me to talk about it. I joined you on one of your hunting nights, did I not? And I'm a fair hand at properly dressing a buck as well, so let me know if you need help."

"We'll need all hands, to be honest," Tav sighed, stretching. Astarion breathed an internal sigh of relief, glad the conversation had moved away from himself and his injury as the subject. "We've two large buck, a doe, three rabbits, a small boar and I think Wyll got a couple of quail on the way back."

"That's...quite a haul of meat," Halsin said hesitantly, a soft frown knitting his brows. "We'll be somewhere we can purchase supplies soon, as is. Did you really need so many...?"

Tav was quiet for a minute, then ran a hand through their hair, looking away. "I just...I started thinking about the refugees I saw when we went into Rivington a few days ago. A few of the tieflings from the grove were already there...the kids," they added quietly, and paused. "Everyone crowded into these makeshift tents and I didn't see a lot of, ah. You know. Food. So I thought, well, we were hunting anyway, and there's enough of us to carry extra..."

The concerned look on Halsin's face melted away into a huge smile, grateful and gracious. "Tav! That's a wonderful idea. I'll definitely help. If we all work on it together we can start to salt the venison tonight."

Well now the conversation had returned to the dull and boring. Astarion sighed and made to stretch, but winced with a sharp intake of breath, a hand hovering over the wound Halsin was quietly tending. "Ah -- th-that hurts more than I expected..."

He wasn't very happy about that, he had plans for later. Mostly slipping into Halsin’s tent and seducing another drink from that lovely throat. It was growing to be a bit indulgent, he couldn’t deny. He didn’t necessarily need it, but…well. He wanted it. That was good enough, wasn’t it?

“Apologies, it will sting with movement for some time. Really, in truth – you should always alert Shadowheart when you’re injured. Sometimes these things are time sensitive.” He met Astarion’s glimmering ruby gaze with those pretty, so very honest eyes of his own. “Will you please attempt to do so more often, Astarion? If not for your own sake, then perhaps to allay your healer’s worry…”

Before a very flustered Astarion could speak, Shadowheart leapt to her feet and pointed at the two of them, smiling triumphantly. “I knew it! I knew that’s what this was about! I was right! Wyll, you owe me ten gold.”

“Blast! I was so certain you were exaggerating,” Wyll sighed from the other side of camp. “I mean – he’s a rogue, not a front liner, hardly soaks damage enough to justify such a thing.”

“What are you on about, you confusing woman?” Astarion snapped, cheeks red. Then blinked as Shadowheart loomed over him with her teasing smile, fingertip poking his forehead.

“He’s your pack healer! I knew it. You’ve run back to him for every bump and scrape for weeks now. Isobel, myself, Jaheira – we may as well be invisible~”

Halsin couldn’t see the look on Astarion’s face, turned towards Shadowheart as he was, but apparently it was enough to make the half-elf burst into delighted giggles, practically dancing away from Astarion as if those blades were seconds from lunging towards her. Which might not be so far from the truth.

She turned, looking over her shoulder at Astarion almost coquettishly, a hand lightly perched upon her chest. “Well! I know when I’m not wanted~” she said with the flair of a dreadful penny romance. “He’s all yours, Archdruid. You’ll have to come with us more often, obviously. The poor thing does tend to get caught by a surprising number of missed traps.”

“....You know, I think I miss cold Sharran princess Shadowheart,” Astarion sniffed, his lips in a thin line. “She didn’t give me quite so much sass.”

Halsin had to chuckle at that. “Mmh, I don’t know Astarion, I seem to recall just as much sass, just of a different nature. I quite enjoy the new outlook.” He finished the last pass at smoothing the salve into the wound and began to bandage it now, taking much longer with the application than needed to save Astarion the sting. Not unusual of course, Halsin was ever mindful of how much extra pain his healing ministrations could add; but he did tend to take extra care with a certain spawn, which had not gone unnoticed by – well, most of the camp, really.

In fact this whole production may have been led by ulterior motives, if the grin on Tav’s face as they watched the group was anything to go by. Astarion was too preoccupied by the insinuation of the other cleric to really notice, luckily.

”Pack healer…” he snorted, crossing his legs though he didn’t lean away from Halsin’s hands this time. “Ridiculous notion.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Isobel mused as she sat on one of the logs surrounding the campfire, Dame Aylin close behind her shoulder, as always. “Perhaps not in those exact words, but…well, in truth, while I heal all in need happily, Aylin is…she’s…” The cleric trailed off, unable to think of a way to describe it, but luckily the demigod had a much more succinct way with words.

“I am Isobel’s shield and blade. And she is my home and hearth.” Aylin looked down at Isobel then, one armored hand lowering to touch a pale cheek. “My place of rest and succor. While I would never deny any cleric’s help if the cause was great, in the end…it is my darling Isobel’s healing touch that I seek before any other. The only I need.”

Astarion shifted uncomfortably and Halsin expected he must be growing tired of the druid’s slow, careful touch by now -- so he finished applying the last bandage and stopped. He didn’t see Astarion’s brief, tiny frown as Halsin began repacking his supplies.

“Aylin,” the Selunite blushed a little, tucking a lock of moon-silver hair behind her ear. “I am no better than another, you know.”

“You outshine them all,” the aasimar said simply and smiled. “Mine own biases at work, I admit, but still. When it is you – the one that shares my heart, well–” She glanced over, that intense expression (that always honestly intimated Astarion just a little) actually softened as she put thoughts to words. Her ethereal gaze met the spawn’s eyes.

“I am blade and shield, aye -- strong as steel and iron. But sometimes I must bend or I will break, and beneath my love’s hands – I can. Her hearth is safe, and I may lie and be vulnerable for a time.” Her glowing gaze turned back to Isobel, smile wide and the cleric’s face was flushed warm. “And if it is a slight amusement, to acknowledge the match? Dame Aylin, with her cleric kept handy in her pack.” She laughed, that boisterous guffaw. “A fitting thing! My Isobel is so sweet and small.”

Halsin didn’t speak during Dame Aylin’s speech, but the tips of his ears were pink as he rose, looking like he’d been thinking of a great many things. But instead of sharing, he just started gathering up his kit bag on a shoulder, task finished. And really, that was all it was. A task asked of any other healer, nothing more or less.

Never mind that the only reason Halsin got to Astarion’s wound as quickly as he did was because the wood elf always scanned the edges of camp with searching eyes the moment the group's approaching noise signaled their return. And that seeking gaze had never landed on Tav or Wyll or Gale or Karlach or any of the others and stayed.

It only ever lingered on one pale elf.

Tav rubbed their chin slightly, thinking, a small smile spreading on their lips, the one that always preceded some trickery or another.

“You two are adorable,” they said cheerily to the Selunite duo, and clapped their hands together. “But sadly ‘tease Astarion hours’ are over! We’ve all got work to do.”

“Oh, is it over already? A shame, I was just beginning to really enjoy myself,” Astarion hissed, the annoyed poofed tail and flat ears practically visible as he too rose with Halsin. Not purposefully! Just idle timing.

“You can’t expect me to join you with all that…blood and guts business, do you?" he continued. "I’m injured!” He groaned exaggeratedly and hobbled a few feet towards his tent. “I'll just go lie down…”

“Oh, pshh...you’re fine! You can skin a rabbit like that, surely. Isn’t that right, Halsin?” Tav asked with an innocent smile.

The druid raised his head, blinking – his mind obviously preoccupied with some other thought. “Hm? Oh, yes, he should – be –” His words paused as he caught Astarion’s eye, the vampire’s ruby gaze wide and his head shaking imperceptibly. Well. Mostly. Tav certainly caught it, and they saw Halsin did too.

“--Oh– Ah– I mean, rather – he probably should refrain from dealing with any viscera…”

Astarion’s eyes widened and his cheeks puffed a little.

“O-or, perhaps not – no touching any of the raw flesh, or, or skinning.” Halsin amended and tilted his head, thinking. “He could help by plucking the birds, I sup–”

A very slight noise like a whistling tea kettle sounded from Astarion’s throat and if Tav didn’t know better they'd think the vampire was hopping in place. Very small angry hops.

Gods but they did love riling Astarion up sometimes. Heroes needed their fun, too.

“He can’t do any butchering!” Halsin finished with an exasperated, if slightly amused, huff. “Just rest and recuperation, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, well, darn I guess we’ll just have to do without!” Tav sighed, hands in the air. They ignored the glare from a few of the companions around, who did not find the amusement worth having to take over Astarion’s share of work. “Best keep him with you too, Halsin, just in case the infection spreads or some such.”

“...Pardon?” Astarion exclaimed then, mid-stride to his own tent. He blinked as Tav gave him a look and made little ‘shooing’ motions at him.

“If you’re too bad off to help, Astarion, you’re too bad off to lounge in your tent reading some awful bodice ripper. Go. Halsin’s tent. Now. Unless you do want to pluck some birds after all…?”

Astarion blinked and turned to look at Halsin, but the druid had already ducked into his tent. Astarion suddenly felt chastised for reasons he didn’t know, and even stranger, finding the druid’s sudden absence…vexing.

“No thank you,” the spawn sniffed without much of anything behind it, then turned. Tav grinned as they watched Astarion hurry to Halsin’s tent and slip inside.

“Well, he certainly became energetic for such an obviously injured, pain-stricken creature,” they said dryly and then sighed, turning to the others and joining them as the least fun part of their hunting weekend began.

“Sooo...can I have one of those pack healers?” they said with a grin, leaning over Shadowheart’s shoulder as she settled in with a knife and a rabbit carcass. “I am the leader, you know~”

“Tch!” Shadowheart flicked Tav’s nose. “I think not. You’re a bard. Heal thyself, support.”

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

Astarion didn’t know what to say once he entered Halsin’s tent, the space small and slightly crowded enough the two had to ease over and around the other to settle onto the padded flooring. Mercifully, that occupied his time for a bit -- too busy to talk while the spawn found some sort of arrangement of his limbs that wouldn’t leave a knee pressing into the large druid somewhere uncomfortable, or Astarion’s foot in a plant pot.

“I apologize for the clutter,” Halsin said at length, attempting to rearrange his stack of books and myriad strings of dried herbs and clay jars of live plantings. “I didn’t exactly…mean for you to join me, really. The wound is likely to be uncomfortable if you lay on that side or twist too much, but there's no cause for a watchful eye, truly. You…” he paused. “You don’t need to be here. You may leave any time you wish, I won’t hold you to Tav’s suggestion.”

Astarion felt the weight behind that pause and turned slightly to look at Halsin with a frown – though that quickly gave away to a wince, as he twisted too far to do so. “Gh! Ah…th-that’s what you meant,” he chuckled low to himself even as his side throbbed.

Halsin immediately looked apologetic and his brow furrowed. “Oh, I didn't think--I'm sorry, that was my fault, Astarion. There’s barely any room here to maneuver…please, allow me.” He stretched out a hand and that familiar glow filled Astarion’s side and warmed him clear through to his fingers and toes. Exhaling a deep sigh, he melted back a little against Halsin’s bedroll and pillows.

“That’s -- mmh, better. Much better. Thank you,” he said sincerely, a fresh burst of warmth glimmering through him at the soft smile on the druid’s lips.

“Ah, since I’m here – I might as well stay,” he said airly, with a carefully casual tone. “I’ll have to just stop maneuvering, as you say, and stay right where I am. It’s not so bad,” he said then and after a beat, smiled up at the druid. “A lovely view at the very least.”

Halsin’s lips twitched a little into a brief smile, and Astarion swore he saw the tips of those lengthy wood elf ears turn pink again. But the smile faded as quickly as it'd come.

“...Astarion. I hope I haven’t...made you feel like you must come to me for healing, if you're injured. You need to be attended by whomever is available, as soon as possible. Waiting for me because I -- I made it seem like that was your only option, or that it’s what I demand -- that was not--" Halsin faltered a little, his scar wrinkling over worried brows. "It's--my intentions have always been–”

“I never needed your healing, druid,” Astarion interrupted, voice tight. He wasn't angry or annoyed, he just -- he just needed Halsin to stop talking like that. Like he’d...forced Astarion to do something. Like he'd overstepped a boundary. He felt a sharp pain in his stomach at the thought that his stubbornness might've convinced Halsin any of the things he'd done for Astarion had been wrong.

He winced at the look of contrition on Halsin’s face that followed the vampire's outburst. The druid seemed to almost shrink in on himself, become smaller with guilt. He couldn't meet Astarion's eyes.

Astarion's chest felt tight as a vise, to see the elf like that and know he was the cause. His brow furrowed. “No, no -- I’m sorry Halsin, I didn’t -- I said that the wrong way. I--”

“It’s just–”

They both stopped, looking at each other and then chuckled wryly, one to the other. “You first,” Astarion said softly.

“The healing…and the…” Halsin gestured to his throat, where the twin pinpricks Astarion had left there a few nights ago were still visible. “The meals. I never wanted to, mm -- not force – perhaps expect?” He thought and then hummed. “Yes…made it seem like I expected you to get such needed things from me, and, well, only me. That was never my intention.”

How could he add that he felt remorseful, and so guilty, because he understood how easily it was for Astarion to just do as he was told. Suggested or commanded, made no difference in the end, if they were said with enough authority...or by someone Astarion trusted. Not that Halsin thought he had authority over the spawn like that, but -- he was a healer, was he not? And not to mention, he was the only one who had offered his blood freely. Was that not obligation, instead of choice? Astarion already struggled with feeling like anything he was given by another was a debt owed.

Astarion should choose himself, what he wanted – who he wanted, for whatever his need may be. Always.

“As you said. You have never needed my healing. But I always was the first at your side, almost pushing it onto you.” He paused and sighed. “Too eager perhaps to feel needed. A feeling I seem to still crave even now. Forgive me.”

“Druid," Astarion muttered, his words strangely thick. "Why…are you…the way you are?” Astarion groaned to himself, an arm resting over his eyes. He’d moved to hide his face as Halsin spoke, the aching feeling in his stomach now fully matched in his chest. He couldn’t look the other elf in the eye.

“I’m not sure–”

“Godsdamnit, so -- so kind!” Astarion snapped. “So good and sweet a-and--” He stopped and exhaled a slow, long breath and then rolled over a little. It was so much easier to address Halsin’s flowers and tiny tree clippings than the druid himself. “You’re right," he continued, softly. "I never needed your healing. And I was actually quite angry this morning at receiving it, since it meant I owed you yet again...”

“Astarion. You’ve never owed me, not once–”

“Yes, I know druid. Hush and let me speak.” The larger elf fell silent and Astarion remained on his side looking away so he didn’t have to see the look of sad anticipation he knew was on on Halsin’s face. Perhaps even a quiet, empty acceptance; he no doubt expected Astarion to tell him to never touch him again, or speak to him, or maybe even something crueler.

The spawn’s chest tightened again.

“That was me being -- oh, let’s just admit it -- angry at myself for telling myself yet more useless lies. Even now, after all this time and learning that, gods forfend I can actually trust you -- I still don't understand why you ask for nothing in return. A part of me holds back, waiting for the moment you’re going to..."

Astarion paused, the closed his eyes tightly. "To want something I can’t give you, in repayment. Because I know I'd do it anyway." His voice softened, briefly. "I'd do anything you asked.”

Halsin's eyebrows raised at that, but he didn't pursue it. He meant to let Astarion speak until he had no more words to give. Rare enough that he was this forthcoming, in the first place.

The vampire sighed deeply. “So if I never once needed what you gave -- freely and out of your own ridiculous, frustrating goodness, might I add! -- well then. I owed you nothing, and never would. No obligation.”

He curled up a little. “The truth was never that, of course. So much worse that I tried to hide it with a flimsy easily-disproven lie like that. No, it could be said I never needed your healing, or your blood or…your…hhh…” Astarion exhaled hard, forcing the words out so they’d stop sticking in his throat. “Touch. Company….voice...” He mumbled. “Scent…”

Finally Astarion couldn’t take it any longer. Even though the pain made him wince and half-cry out as he pushed himself up and twisted towards Halsin, he just gritted through it, especially since it was nothing like what he’d felt before. Even so, he had to take a minute to shoo Halsin away, the druid's instinct to help stop that pain.

Astarion huffed. He may truly be getting soft with these blasted friends that kept soothing all the hurts.

He met Halsin’s face, heart squeezing at the slumped shoulders and achingly sad eyes of someone awaiting an inevitable rejection. Favoring action over words, Astarion reached out and took those roughened, worn hands, ones he’d experienced firsthand as the most gentle that had ever touched him, at least in memory. The spawn could tell that the gesture surprised Halsin and he took advantage to squeeze them with his own slender fingers and surprise him even more.

“I don’t need you to heal–” Astarion paused.

“Mmh no. Let me say what I mean,” he amended, quickly, before he lost his nerve. “I don’t need you Halsin…” The sharp glittering rubies of his eyes met the gentle spring of Halsin's own, wide and sincere.

“I want you. I…I want you. Your care, and concern, and your blood and, hells, your company and, and your voice…your healing touch…” His eyes flicked downward and he grinned, showing fangs.

“Your hands. Gods, do I love what you do with your hands,” he laughed softly, not even bothering to turn it into some seductive innuendo. Just pure honesty. What those hands do, though.

Astarion suddenly let go of Halsin and gripped his folded legs tightly, staring at them, his moment of brazen honesty almost too much to continue to bear. His teeth gritted a bit.

“If anyone has been taking advantage of anyone else, then I’ve taken advantage of your kindness and care. Shadowheart was right -- I’ve been keeping silent every time I got hurt, because all I wanted was...was to come back here and…” He paused, Dame Aylin’s words flickering through his head.

He smiled ruefully. “Receive your succor.” A pause and then he continued, more softly. “Lie and be vulnerable, for a time. But only with you.”

“But--” he could hear a thickness in Halsin’s words and he looked up quickly, brow furrowing, afraid his words had gone too far. But the expression on Halsin’s face was not of pain.

And Astarion’s chest hurt again, but this time he found he didn’t mind.

“But why me? When there are so many others at hand…?” Even now, it seemed the druid couldn’t quite believe it. And Astarion smiled then, real and raw and lopsided, no performance or careful construction. He didn't even keep his eyes from crinkling at the corners.

“‘Because,” he said softly, reaching forward to take Halsin's hands in his again, pressing close enough he could feel that welcome warmth surrounding him. “Simple, darling.” He laughed and then leaned closer.

“It’s what I choose." He pressed a palm to Halsin's chest, felt the strong thump of his heart. "You're what I choose~”

Halsin was quiet for a beat, and then a slow ragged breath left him. His arms wound around Astarion immediately, emotion taking over any carefulness; but the vampire didn’t even mind the pain, would gladly welcome any amount if it meant these arms stayed like this for as long as they could.

Of course, he knew the big softy wouldn’t dare cause a second of hurt, so when he winced and said ‘ouch’, Halsin apologized profusely. That got him a pinch; he chuckled, apologized for apologizing with a cheeky grin and carefully shifted to gather Astarion up in his lap, no hint of pain in the new position.

Well if this was what it took to get Halsin to cuddle, he’d have let a Kobold stab him weeks ago.

“So,” Halsin began with a bemused smile playing over his lips, his forehead against Astarion’s as they curled up together. “Does this mean I'm to be kept in your pack?”

“Pfft! Certainly not,” Astarion snorted. “You’re way too big.” He grinned a little as Halsin laughed, and then looked up to meet his gaze.

“But if you’d like to perhaps, stay at my side, instead? I think that would work just fine.”

“Hmm…” Halsin mused, and then smiled gently and pressed his lips to Astarion’s forehead. “Yes. I do believe I can do just that. For as long as you need m–” he paused and then his smile warmed. “For as long as you want me there.”

“Well,” Astarion said, his answering grin soft and indulgent. “Best prepare, healer. That’s going to be a very long time, indeed.”

[roguerambles]

Unexpected Arrivals

Baldur's Gate III - Halsin x Tav x Gale

Warnings - 18+Only. Adult Situations.

So BG3 has had my heart since it's release (seriously, I've been playing it consistently haha) and I wanted to try something using my Tav's. Just a quick something fluffy and silly and a little sexy. I'm not thrilled with how it turned out but I'm trying to beat writer's block.

Also since finding that Gale/Halsin isn't ENTIRELY off the table, my heart is even more set on Gale/Aelia/Halsin, the benefit of fanfiction I suppose haha.

Anyway, my Tavs are Aelia, Half High Elf Storm Sorcerer, and Krios, Tiefling Circle of the Land Druid.

Enjoy the Rambles!

-

Gale's tower was surprisingly homey.

Krios practically jogged up the stone steps, his heavy boots echoing dully, the torches bursting to life as he continued to ascend. He and Astarion had arrived in Waterdeep earlier than expected, and truthfully the druid was too excited to wait until morning to send word to Gale and Aelia. It had been months since they had seen any of their companions, after all.

Astarion had rolled his eyes at him, but sniffed that he supposed Gale's tower was better accommodation than the local inns (and Gale was far less likely to wonder why Astarion would need to be hidden in a rented room all day) but Krios knew he was looking forward to seeing their friends again.

Not enough to take the stairs, even though the lift was taking far too long in Krios's opinion. So the tiefling immediately took off up the staircase, determined to reach the top before the vampire did.

"Ha!"

He grinned to himself as he reached the top landing, the gentle churning of the lift indicating Astarion was still slowly ascending. I win.

The druid debated waiting, before taking note of the sweet smell of fresh soil and flowers that tickled his nose, combined with the gentle spice of cinnamon and fire, and felt a flicker of excitement. In her last letter Aelia had mentioned starting a garden within the tower not long after moving in with Gale, and Krios was eager to see what she had done with it. Surely Astarion would not mind if he knocked and--

"Ahhhhhhhh....."

Krios's large hand froze at the door handle, his ears perking like Scratch's at dinner time. Oh. It was late at night, and Aelia and Gale weren't expecting them. He hadn't considered they would be--

"Ah...! Ohhhhh...Halsin...!"

Wait, what--?

Unable to stop himself, Krios pushed the door slightly - it slowly swung open - so much for those magical defences Gale - and the first thing his eyes landed on where a familiar set of druidic robes, crumbled and abandoned on the floor. Just beyond them, a pair of boots, a half torn tunic, some lacy lingerie--

"Oh....! Yes...Halsin...yes--!"

A woman cried out, voiced laced with pleasure, and Krios's gaze snapped upwards. Aelia, eyes squeezed tight, threw her head back, long raven hair spilling across her shoulders and back. Her naked breasts bounced slightly as she gripped the table beneath her, her thighs clenched around impossibly broad shoulders, fingers tangled in long, messy brown hair. "Yes....ahhhhhhh....!"

Sweet Silvanus--

"Hah....come here to me--!"

Halsin lifted his head from between Aelia's thighs, voice thick with lust. The muscles in his broad back flexed and contracted as he rose, his large hands grasping her hips as he pulled her flush against him. His mouth crushed against hers, capturing her sinful moan as they writhed against each other, falling back into the table, knocking bowls of fruit and chalices of wine to the floor in their haste.

The sweet, heavy scent tickled Krios's nose once again and he swallowed thickly, mind foggy with shock and awe at the naked display of carnality in front of him. Halsin and Aelia? Here? Gale would be crushed. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The druid wanted to say something, but as he opened his mouth words seemed to fade on his tongue. His eyes trailed over the flexing of Halsin's powerful hips, the lovely shape of Aelia's strong thighs, and suddenly Krios did not know whether he would barge in and reprimand them or ask if they wanted company--

"Honestly, you two are incorrigible."

Gale tutted in vague disapproval, appearing from an opposite doorway, a tray of seemed to be water and fruit in his hands. He was draped in a fluffy, dark blue robe, open to expose his surprisingly toned torso. Krios watched as he walked around the table, setting the tray down. "Come on, we must pace ourselves or you'll end up exhausted. We should eat."

Krios was beginning to wonder if he had passed out on the stairs and was dreaming.

“I’d rather devour you.”

Halsin growled, his voice low and playful, reaching out to grasp Gale’s waist and tug him towards himself and Aelia. Gale huffed out a laugh, rolling his eyes slightly, his hand bracing on the elf’s thick bicep.

“Halsin—”

Aelia laughed breathlessly, stopping Gale’s words by leaning up and pressing her lips to his, her arms loosely draping around his neck. Gale mumbled something incomprehensible to Krios’s ears, his mouth moving eagerly against hers as Halsin’s hand roamed down his side, slipping underneath his robe. “Gale, stop talking and get in here—”

“Aelia—” Gale huffed, a warm chuckle melting into a soft moan. “We…we should at least go back to bed—my word—"

Gale apparently needed little encouragement after that, his fingers gently caressing Aelia’s jawline as Halsin leaned against his shoulder, pressing open mouthed kisses along Gale’s neck and shoulder. The three began to move together, bodies sliding and grinding and tangling together, and heat blossomed deep in Krios’s belly, thick roots slowly spreading as his fingers tightly coiled around the door handle still in his grasp. Confusion was being rapidly replaced with arousal and he wet his lower lip with his tongue, the mysteriously sweet scent seeming to engulf his senses as he began to push the door open. He wanted to join them, to feel their naked bodies against his own, writhing and rutting and stroking in pleasure—

“I didn’t realise you liked to watch, darling.”

Krios yelped and whirled around, nearly colliding with Astarion, the fog banished from his mind like smoke in the breeze. Astarion peered up at him, fangs flashing in sharp amusement. “Astarion!” Words stumbled together in his mouth, tumbling out into the air uselessly. “I—I—I was…I just—”

“Krios?”

“Oh! Gracious—!”

The door swung open as Astarion peeked around Krios, eyebrow quirked. “Dinner and a show, Gale? Really, you shouldn’t have.”

Gale looked painfully flustered, hastily grabbing some discarded clothing from the floor to try and preserve some modesty. Aelia stared at them, wide-eyed, while Halsin made absolutely no attempt to cover up, simply looking pleased to see them.

“Krios! Astarion!” Halsin’s face lit up, a bright smile forming on his ruggedly handsome features. “What a wonderful surprise.” His large hand slowly rubbed up and down Aelia’s thigh slung across his hip, and Krios found himself watching the gesture with fascination, his gut tightening as Halsin’s voice seemed to drop an octave. “Please. Join us.”

“Halsin!” Gale hissed, reaching across Aelia to lightly shove Halsin’s shoulder. “Please!”

Halsin coughed, an expression of mild embarrassment flashing across his face, before he offered a sheepish grin as next to Krios, Astarion began to cackle. “Apologies. Aelia’s new blooms have had…interesting effects.”

Finally, Krios realised where the scent was coming from. Just beyond the room, he could see what appeared to be a small garden, perfuming the air with nature and magic. He cleared his throat, shaking his head to try and clear the mist from his thoughts. "You...you exposed Halsin to an aphrodisiac...?"

Halsin laughed, a self-deprecating smile on his face, as Aelia smothered a laugh behind her hand. A nervous chuckle escaped Gale, who waved his hand vaguely in the air as though he suddenly had no idea what to do with it. "Well, we were a little surprised ourselves! Really, druidic magic isn't my area of expertise, but it is quite fascinating the intersecting nature of--"

"Gale, handsome--" Aelia leaned against his shoulder, hiding a smile against his skin. "Perhaps save the lecture for when we are all wearing clothes."

"That...might be a good idea, my love." Gale laughed, a note of mild hysteria in his voice as he shrugged apologetically in Krios's direction. Krios for his part was suddenly distracted by the image of a naked Gale lecturing him on plants and felt blood begin slowly journeying south of his body. What the fuck--

The half high elf sorcerer smiled slightly, sitting up from her position roughly between Gale and Halsin. “Besides…I would have thought a certain Archdruid would have noticed what we were planting…”

“They are exceptionally rare plants!” Halsin laughed slightly, lightly squeezing her thigh, still laid out across the table, body on shameless, delicious display. Krios was beginning to feel flushed. “Truthfully, I am amazed you even found them at all.”

“Still, you’ve been here for months. I am surprised—”

“Halsin is living here?” Krios blinked, briefly seizing onto clarity. Gale looked slightly flushed as Aelia smiled, hands catching Gale’s and Halsin’s own. “You…the three of you—?”

“Yes, well—” Gale cleared his throat loudly, looking very intently at something vaguely above Krios’s head. “It’s…we’re…exploring the possibility of….we are exploring—"

“Gale and Aelia have honoured me by allowing me to share in their relationship.” Halsin interrupted, catching Gale’s hand and lifting it to his lips, pressing a light kiss against his knuckles. The wizard stuttered, looking even more flustered, while Aelia grinned fondly at the two men on either side of her. “We are allowing our roots to grow together.”

Astarion looked bemused for a moment, before shaking his head. “Well, good for you three, I suppose.” He flashed Gale a coy grin. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“We are very happy for you.” Krios nudged Astarion slightly. “We…we are sorry to have interrupted—”

“We?” Astarion gave him a mockingly non-plussed look. “You were the one lurking at the door, darling.”

Krios could feel his cheeks burning. “I…apologies, I…those plants are really something.” He finished lamely, contemplating fleeing the tower, stripping down and diving into the harbour fuck it was hot in here.

“Indeed they are.” Halsin’s eyes slowly trailed over him, lips curving into a soft smirk. “Perhaps we could—”

Aelia smacked Halsin’s shoulder this time. “Down boy.” She chided playfully, allowing the playful smile she shot Krios way – her body angling to show off her delightful curves – told him she wasn’t opposed to the idea. “I’m sure Krios and Astarion are tired from their journey.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Astarion laughed, eyes lit up with clear amusement as he turned to grin at Krios. “This one looks raring to go.”

He was, embarrassingly enough. The botanist in him made a mental note to inquire after those plants later, when he was at least fairly certain he wasn’t at risk of jumping his hosts bones. “We…should give you all some privacy…” He cleared his throat, the absurdity of the situation causing a nervous, sheepish grin to bloom on his lips. “But, at the moment, a cold bath suddenly sounds lovely.”

Gale gasped suddenly, and practically leapt from the table, magic briefly flashing around him, and suddenly he stood in a loose blue tunic and black pants. “Gods, your room isn’t ready! Give me just a moment, and I’ll have it prepared at once—"

“Oh, Gale, please, we arrived unexpectedly.” Krios protested as the wizard rushed past him, turning to hurry after him. “Please, do not trouble yourself on our account—”

“Speak for yourself, darling.” Astarion scoffed, exchanging amused glances with Aelia and Halsin. With a playful bow, he turned and followed Krios out, listening to he and Gale’s voices down the hallway. Apparently, manners overpowered embarrassment.

At least breakfast tomorrow would have interesting conversation.

[palidoozy-art]

Me and my group started a one-shot in Pathfinder 2E that might honestly transition to a full-fledged campaign. But because my work is never finished, I decided that for this campaign I'd try a "theme" of old jRPGs.

The tokens are heavily based off of Octopath Traveler's, and the portraits are heavily based off of the original Final Fantasy 7.

More of me rambling under the cut.

One of our players had a birthday and couldn't really make the session, so while they were absent my players wanted to try out more of Pathfinder 2e. I wanted to play more of Kjosev, so we decided we'd have a campaign set waaay the fuck back in time.

Almost 200 years ago in our weird CoS/homebrew world, there was an eclipse (caused by the Lord of Twilight Woods/Serafim) that lasted for an entire year. The world went from essentially quasi-industrial/advanced to early medieval, and roughly 75% of the population was killed off. When my players want to create new countries or races, one of the first things I ask them is "how did they survive the Eclipse?" -- because that's how impactful it was.

... so we decided: hey, wouldn't it be cool if we ran something set there? So that's how it started.

It'll also be one of the first time I get to be a full-fledged player in 3+ years, as Ellerian's player will be taking the reins and DMing (the concept interests him a lot). The Eclipse hasn't happened yet, and I don't know when it will. He's told me "I want you guys to fall in love with the world first, then I want to take that away."

The characters, from their portraits, left to right, top to bottom;

Calim (Chaotic Good Summoner) - A blind first quarter elunin (rabbitfolk/viera from my previous post) who can only 'see' through his summon, a shadow drake. He's a college dropout and constantly cracks jokes about being blind. Didn't even know he was a summoner until he finally managed to pull out an eidolon to save a slave girl.

Juno (Lawful Good Fighter) - A genderless waning gibbous elunin who serves as a member of the Night Watch. They take their job extremely seriously. The party hasn't gotten a chance to meet them much, sadly, but hopefully will get more interaction in the future.

Kjosev (Neutral Good Druid) - A dusk elf druid that I've rambled about extensively, but he's a druid of Twilight Woods. A former wizard and seer, he lost his ability to cast arcane spells after being tortured and paralyzed in parts of his hands. He adapted to druidic magic after isolating himself in the Woods. Left to try to warn people of a great calamity. He doesn't know what, specifically, is going to happen, just that it'll be bad.

Genrik (Lawful Evil Summoner) - A dusk elf who was a former teacher. He's a dusk elven supremacist, calling humans 'hairless apes' and insisting that the dusk elf kingdom will rise again. Eventually. It won't, but he seems pretty sure of himself. He only escaped the destruction by stealing a fiend (to enslave, of course) and fleeing when the armies came. He assumes everyone knows him (they don't).

So far they are extremely fun, and I am excited about it. The style also saves me a lot of time as we can just, uh. Borrow sprites from Octopath and other jRPGs.

[omgkalyppso]

I posted this before but deleted it both because I was embarrassed and because I was worried I'd severely fucked up Astarion's age for the nth time, originally referenced from This Post. But I've seen many more analyses and I think it's right. I think it is. Anyway!

EDIT: I DID GET HIS AGE WRONG because that is the post I meant to reference. But I'm not fixing it. 232.

I was tagged by @luinen-bluewater to complete this far simpler ship meme: otp, ot3/4.

Here is the template I actually used: ot3. Here's the otp version.

I'll tag a few people to complete any of the templates referenced: Luinen, @the-eldritch-it-gay, @vlwv, @tadpole-apocalypse, @boghermit, @lemonbronze, @littleplasticrat and YOU.

I'll put the above image chopped up below the cut so it's easier viewing for the curious. And I'll ramble a bit more (bg3 spoilers, discussion of vampirism and character deaths).

In my headcanons, Astarion neither remains a spawn nor becomes the Vampire Ascendant, he becomes a vampire, and some hundreds of years later he turns Étoile to a vampire as well (this post / these headcanons need reviewing after the epilogue changes with the Crown, but we'll see).

With this in mind, I was thinking of Halsin being the longest of their lovers and how ��toile could possibly handle his death:

Étoile and Astarion occupied on some adventure / business or other, and when they return, an unaffected or perhaps impatient messenger has come to deliver news of Halsin's death. And it is so long after the others of their relevant, initial, adventuring party has passed (or maybe not. Lae'zel is a wild card (no aging on the astral plane)). Still, i can imagine one of them snapping. I think it's more interesting if it's Étoile, saying aloud that the messenger is mistaken, that surely the message is that Halsin's ill and is calling to see them a final time — Astarion's near shouting in embarrassment and worry, telling the messenger to go, calling Étoile's name, grabbing their arm until Étoile says loudly that they heard them. They heard what they said. And also sends the poor messenger away.

But then I started considering an alternative which I felt was ooc for Halsin from the base game but which I think is more possible / within the scope of his character after the addition of the epilogue. Reminder that Étoile is a paladin of the neutral evil goddess Auril, started bg3 as neutral good but whom I consider neutral evil, and is an Oathbreaker by the end of their adventure:

Halsin at like 820 or older, life expectancy 700-1000, veering wildly between peace with the natural order of things and intense discomfort with things that feel unfinished, the way they always do. And sometime with Étoile leaned against his chest he speaks of Silvanus, the Oakfather, of children and elders in all families of creatures have come and gone, of how his druidic order has changed more slowly than a tree spreads its roots, and how never in all that time did Étoile ask him to abandon his god and his (god's) comfort for the sake of vampirism and eternity. Fondly, expecting Halsin to imagine it an irritation after his speech, Étoile recalls that Astarion did, three hundred or so years ago. Étoile points out that they know the comfort they found in their worship, and they would never have sought to steal that from him (Halsin). To be a vampire is unnatural, lost to his Oakfather. Halsin points out that he has felt that Étoile has wanted to ask before, even if it has always remained unsaid, in the emptiness in their chest (lack of heartbeat), in the slant of their mouth when his (Halsin's) movement is broken with age, in how they've (Étoile has) breathed in his silver hair the more it's overcome him, something that felt respectful once, but now he's past where his end should have been, and the temptation of rekindling old strengths, the hope of another thousand years, through vampirism, shames him (Halsin) greatly. The selfishness of an old mind. Why wouldn't it have felt like a possibility a hundred years ago, two hundred, more? How could he dare to think of continuing a protection of his forest, of caring for his kin, if he lost all connection to them, and even fears what makes them the same in their morality so much that he would dare forsake it. If he was going to lose his faith, why wouldn't he have done so when he was younger and different, except that he was stronger then, in body and in mind. And yet what difference would there be, feasting upon the wild in the woods? And Étoile would be blunt about the differences, and about how there are even laws now, that they helped put in place. "They" could punish them both greatly for this, but the transformation itself would be their shared shame. He could be their first spawn, and perhaps their only, but if he wanted this now — that it was no corruption of age, just a changed heart. And they would happily accept him into their home if all beasts and men turned from him as a decree from his Oakfather -- but he would have to be sure, because the fallout could be immeasurable. Étoile would try to do it permissably, but they would turn Halsin in secret, if need be. And what if "they" were like. fucking no???? and to ensure you don't do this thing we're going to keep you sealed, either in an area or in a fucking coffin until your druid has passed. (Astarion would lose his fucking mind.)

Abbreviated:

Halsin: what if i've lived long enough to see myself become the villain. Étoile: well my ship has sailed, and you know, if i meet you in hell then it's not hell

I think though that Halsin's village would have warm, clean shelters under the ground, just below the surface as if to shelter from storms, but well-used and familiar to vampires after years of shared knowledge and resources. They'd be glad to claim him.

OH! And Étoile's birthday is Oct 20th (their date of creation during early access was Oct 20 2020), I gave Astarion Sept 22nd (first day of autumn), and Halsin May 13th (he seems like a Taurus and I figured he'd be worn and irksome about having a birthday that often falls on a day associated with bad luck (Friday the 13th)).

[paracawsal]

Welp that’s the second time I’ve quoted Eris Morn in my Druid notes 🤷🏻‍♀️

[azatas]

OH and she could take oath of the ancients because of how much she admires jaheira??? oh yeah, it's all coming together

thinking of having tasi take 2 paladin levels after the temple of bhaal but gameplay wise i feel like it might be a waste 😞

[ploompkin]

A younger Mel when they were still a shadow druid, because I love angst~ Or- well. This is right in the middle of their exile.

Short backstory ramble below for anyone who cares,,

I changed their backstory ever so slightly from when I first designed them!! New backstory incoming~

Melekh was born and raised in a shadow druidic circle. They weren't unhappy either: they had family and friends, abided by the shadow druids teachings and worshipped Auril (their circle's chosen diety) and in return they were granted powerful magic- mostly ice magic since their circle lived in the tundra. Howeverrr when it came to their initation to being a fully fledged druid, they were required to join in a raid on another non-shadow druidic circle. When they actually saw what their people were doing first hand though (literally just. slaughtering everyone), they couldn't bring themeslves to join in. As a result of their defiance they were summarily cut down, had their sigil taken away and left to bleed out and die in the tundra. Fortunately for them, Silvanus took pity on them after seeing them stand up against their kin, and in exchange for Melekh's devotion, healed them. Mel swore to never use their ice/dark magic ever again, and instead focused on honing their wild shaping abilities, new healing magic (courtesy of Silavnus), and even picked up bard magic (they're a druid-bard multiclass) to compensate for the voluntary abstinance of their more powerful spells.

Family and friends now enemies, Melekh had no choice but to wander the lands and survive by themselves, honouring balance and doing good where they can to try and atone for their time as a shadow druid. They've been looking for a place to belong ever since, but never found it. ...Until they meet the tiefling exiles of Elturel, that is!

[knightsofsomethingorother]

Bedivere 😇, Lucan 🫂, and/or Griflet 👽, if you feel like it.

If there is one thing that should be known about me: I love, above all else, to ramble. I ALWAYS feel like it.

😇 Religious headcanon- I was actually thinking about this recently for reasons. Bedivere and his family do not strike me in any way as Catholic, or even Christian. I'm going to go ahead and say they're of a more druidic or a traditional pre-Christian Anglo-Saxon persuasion.

As an aside finding information regarding pre-Christian religious practices from that area that aren't biased as hell is like pulling teeth and if anyone has any reading/documentary recommendations please send them my way.

🫂 Friendship headcanon- Arthur is his bestie. You don't get to be butler like that if you're not. I was actually going to do some more comics with these two expanding on that relationship. Also: lifelong bromance ends with one hugging the other to death. That's good shit.

👽 Weird Quirk headcanon- Okay, so, I think it'd be cool if Griflet had some fairy weirdness about him. Not sure exactly what, maybe just a stronger connection to the wind or nature in general, maybe out-and-out magic, but I think it'd be fun! It also makes a pretty fun dynamic where the painfully responsible and (by comparison) normal Bedivere and Lucan have this deeply weird and esoteric cousin that they treat as completely ordinary. Don't even react when something magic happens. That's just cousin Griflet who receives grim portents from the other side on the breeze sometimes, no big deal.

[wyked-ao3]

Hi @wyked-ao3 ! 👋

From the QNA Ask Game, I’m curious as to the inspirations behind TPKODR. I’m always wondering what inspired artists and writers to sit down and write their stories or do their art. Mine was a lot of Disney Animated classics (and Treasure Planet), but I know a lot of your AO3 fics were inspired by the Supernatural series (super awesome stories, by the way! ✨)

I wanna learn where people get their pirate inspos, and then I go read/watch them 🏴‍☠️✨

ok so I have a broad mix of things... I grew up watching pirates of the Caribbean..and it sparked my interest (I was not a fan of Peter pan the whole concept scared me as a kid and I don't particularly know why) anyway fast forward a few years and I'm researching pirates as I had a interest sparked by the pirates of the Caribbean..anyway I found Grace O'Malley a pirate queen who demanded respect from other sovereignty and my curiosity grew. A few years back I learned about Anne Bonny then I found this music track that got me hooked on the tale (one day I might do a retelling of the legend of Anne Bonny but that'll be a while off yet)

Then I have played assassin's Creed and Skyrim has some pirates down at the docks as well.

I also have several pirate captains or pirate king's who have caught my attention over the years but I'm trying not to ramble on too much lol...also I loved the lore of Davy Jones as a kid ...

For the fae aspect it would be nature spirit lore and druidic belief based I suppose, I have always had an interest in the fae.

I added a lot of little tidbits to be included to the story of most if my favorite subjects.. although I do have to remember not to get carried away more often than not lol....

@the-golden-comet I hope that answered your question 🙂 as for art well I usually try for whatever pops into my mind's eye lol

[paeliae-occasionally]

OC Questionnaire tag!

Thanks @the-golden-comet for the open tag!

My questions:

What was the hardest decision you had to make?

Have you regretted any choice you made? If so, what and why?

Do you speak more than one language?

Your Questions

Who is your favourite person? Why?

Would you rather say something in 50 words or 200 words?

Would you rather work outside or inside?

I will be answering for Paeliae and Apollo, because I think they will have a fun duality in these questions.

What was the hardest decision you had to make?

Paeliae: Carrying the treaty. Generally walking into godly fire is not a good idea, and at that point I would have been forgotten if I died there. I had to act confident in front of the society, but it was hard to convince myself this was right.

Apollo: Splitting up from Tyro when we left Vasens. I hated leaving them on their own, I knew they could survive, and I knew we would be harder to track if we stayed apart, but I hated that I couldn’t help them more.

2. Have you regretted any choice that you have made? What and why?

Paeliae: Yes. I should have taken the entire city of tielere when I left, not just my soldiers. I know that is not a guilt I deserve, but it is a guilt I still feel.

Apollo: I don’t think so. I have done many things I feared at the time, but looking back I wouldn’t change those choices. I had to leave Tyro. I had to bind that boy, and I did it without hurting him. It doesn’t make those choices easier, but I don’t regret them.

3. Do you speak more than 1 language?

Paeliae: Yes. I speak Edrelian, Emresian, Tieleri, old Ossenic and enough Illeri to negotiate with their religious representatives. I was learning Druidic and draconic to read more into the history of somni magics, but then the war started, so I never truly learned them. My mother taught me most of the ancient languages and my father taught me the political ones.

Apollo: Yes, I speak Altic and Coastal like most people in Kar’wysan. Oh and Disaris, the runic language, but that doesn’t really count. It isn’t spoken outside of the families.

Tagging @illarian-rambling, @just-emis-blog and @bookish-karina.

and open tag! <3

[skyheld]

THE FEY DRUID

merrill is a wood-elf druid and warlock living in the emerald grove, though never fully accepted as a member of the circle. always a little apart from her brethren, she is enraged by their treatment of the tiefling refugees and turns her back on them entirely when the decision is made to perform the ritual of thorns. she can be encountered in the hollow, helping the refugees prepare for the journey, or in the sunlit wetlands, investigating kagha on her own. later, even if halsin is reinstated as archdruid and the ritual stopped, she will follow the tieflings when they leave, hoping to lend her aid on their journey.

name. merrill alerion sabrae race. wood elf gender. cis female pronouns. she/her age. young sexual/romantic orientation. pansexual class. originally a druid, circle of spores, who entered a warlock pact with the archfey psilofyr, the carrion king. she does not use physical weaponry aside from her staff. background. sage

physical.

impression. with enormous eyes and careful, twitchy movements merrill brings to mind a fragile songbird, a skittish animal. closer inspection reveals a different side: one of determination and deep knowledge, the relentless desire to walk her own path, no matter how lonely. body language. nervous and twitchy, or eerily still, she may sit for hours lost in thought or entranced by the sight of ants along a path, or water at a distance - or she may move around constantly, fiddling with equipment and unable to sit still. in battle, she's focused and direct; doing magic, she never hesitates. manner of speaking. soft and quiet, with a tendency to ramble and backtrack in her thoughts. sometimes her mind takes unexpected routes, and her speech follows. details. heavy-set, with wide hips and thick thighs, narrow shoulders, and short legs. hair is black, cut short, very glossy and soft, eyes large and vividly green. she wears black facial tattoos in the shape of stark branches. equipment. like most druids merrill wears leather and fur in natural colours, but with a little less emphasis on leaves and twigs than some of her brethren. her style of dress is rather simple. she carries a carved wooden staff and a long dagger, but no other weapon. other. merrill has DTD, developmental topographical dysfunction, meaning she lacks sense of direction and is unable to make a mental map of any place no matter how familiar. she can only navigate between landmarks she can see and/or along a familiar route, which she can't deviate from.

biography.

The feeling of not belonging has been with Merrill for as long as she can remember. She was born in a druidic circle in the south and still a child by elven standards when both her parents were killed by bandits. While the other members of the circle truly did their best to comfort, their kindness wasn't enough to alleviate the feeling that she was unwanted and a burden.

there were only two in that circle she did feel close to: tamlen and mahariel, around her age and her only friends growing up. but their decision one day to explore an old ruin was enough to shatter that brittle happiness. the ruin was a mage's old research laboratory, and within it they found a strange portal which swallowed up her friends and left her stranded. in her desperation to reactivate the portal, merrill scoured the mage's old notes and found a ritual to summon a powerful archfey. thus she encountered psilofyr and entered a pact with him. his power wasn't enough to reactivate the portal, but it allowed her to take a piece of it. she would need greater power and more knowledge, but in time she would be able to build a new, working portal from that small shard.

to her mind she had done her best, but to her circle, she had twisted a tragedy into something aberrant, refusing the natural grief of loss. though they could understand her desperation, they no longer wanted her among them. a letter was sent to other circles affiliated with the emerald enclave, and the archdruid halsin of the emerald grave promised to take merrill in.